By Mac Arnold
|ROA photo by Mac Arnold|
Practicing out the window in
Monroe County, Mich., has
been helpful. The Beman ICS
Hunter arrows shoot nicely.
Whoop! Whoop! Hot in the mail Monday was my deer tag for the Shiawassee State Game Area.
This is somewhat a relief in case the camp in Michigan's Thumb gets too packed.
Of course, the state game area can get that way as well but not so much during the middle of the week.
But the same can go for the deer camp too.
Thing is, options are nice to have during the 90-days of insanity, which begins for us "nonyouths" on Oct. 1.
I'd love to drop a nice buck there after the couple follies I've encountered at the peoples' property over the years. Never have scored on that hallowed ground although I've had a opportunity or two to do so.
The properties have a nice mixture of hardwoods, crop lands and canals, which offer great habitat for Mr. Whitetail.
In particular, there is one section of oak flats that I like to go in hopes of reversing the misfortune I had there ... oh, probably a decade ago or so now. When a nice 8-point trotted by but just out of bow range for the recurve.
Then an hour later, a comedy duo of a father and son appeared dragging him practically to the tree I was standing on point in. Suddenly, the dad begs off and says he has to ... take of business, much to the disbelief of the son. So about 10 yards over from me he drops trow and turns the honey hole into a stink hole. After they rolled on past, I had zero debate on whether my hunt was finished. It most certainly was and right at prime-time dusk. I was not amused.
Later in the parking lot, I discovered my favorite $30 Scent-Lok skull cap was nowhere to be found, and I began muttering to myself and carrying on for 10 minutes or so before I noticed the dad from the previous event was sitting in the dark watching the pageant unfold. Why he was still there I haven't a clue but in my embarrassed state, I quickly abandoned all thoughts of finding the hat and hauled butt out of there.
A few years later, I took to another part of the state land across from a cut corn field. There was water behind me. It had all the makings of a good setup.
Sure enough at dusk in came some does, and I had a tag. After having one arrow fall off my bow, I emptied the quiver of the remaining three arrows at one and connected nicely with the dirt with all three. Ended up losing one. It was very embarrassing, if only to myself.
I attributed it to the older, heavier bow and weak shoulder.
Ah, what great memories. Time to make some more.